


to cry so softly you cannot hear it yourself

by adieuophelia



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, psychotic attack, psychotic hawke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-08-31
Packaged: 2018-04-18 06:29:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4695668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adieuophelia/pseuds/adieuophelia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>leandra is dead. hawke doesnt know how to deal with that</p>
            </blockquote>





	to cry so softly you cannot hear it yourself

**Author's Note:**

> quick psychotic hawke  
> **i am psychotic please dont comment saying this isnt realistic every psychotic person is different and this is based off one of my attacks**  
> probably gonna delete this soon but whatever i literally wrote this in ao3 and my browser crashed twice im not wasting that much work

The blade left her hand and quickly lodged itself in the last of the corpse creatures heads.

Breathing heavily, Hawke reached down to pull the knife out of the skull, wiping the blood and grime off her blade.

She tucked the knife into the small sheath on her belt, and turned. She had almost forgotten about what had happened.

_Mother_

Hawke ran towards the shuffling body, knowing it wasn't really her mother but a doll made of parts of others, and caught her before she fell to the ground.

She looked towards Anders desperately, but knew before he responded that it was a lost cause.

She was numb after that. She could feel herself speak, and the warm tears down her face, but she wasn't aware of anything. 

Soon, Leandra fell slack in her arms. Hawke didn't react, she didn't know how. She just sat, staring a dead thousand yards into her mothers still open eyes.

She felt a hand on her shoulder, and she blinked.

She felt two hands on her waist, lifting her gently to her feet, and she stood. 

She felt a hand pressing on her lower back, guiding her forwards, and she walked.

She saw a short man with a worried gaze say words she did not hear, and when he left, she entered the house before her.

She saw an old man with hair pushed back, and saw him yell something, to which she simply chose a door and entered the room behind it.

She entered another door, then another, until she was in a small room with no candles or windows, only boxes here and there. So, mindlessly still, she sat on the cold ground.

She curled into herself, as small as she possibly could.

She made no noise.

She did not think, speak, act...

She just sat, riding the calm before a storm.

She felt numb, she felt nothing.

She dug at her knuckles with her torn, dirty fingernails just to remind herself that she still  _was_  herself.

Warm tears she did not feel fall dripped into the gashes in her hand, the saltiness causing her fingers to burn.

She felt nothing.

 

No one followed her into the room. They knew how she got, and they didn't want to be caught in the backlash. Hawke knew this. So they all just waited in the main room of the mansion patiently for her to exit.

But she didn't. Not until much later, when a white haired man entered through the basement, and heard her laboured breathing.

Fenris had first hand experience with Hawke when she had done this before, and knew what to expect. After hearing through Varric what the mage had done to her mother, the elf was at the mansion without another word.

Slowly, gently, he opened the doors leading to the grieving woman, closing them behind himself.

When he reached the shaking body of his lover, he had already removed all of his armour, bearing only the thick protective fabric of his undershirt and pants.

He did not urge her out of her state of numbness, instead he sat in front of her, cross-legged on the rock ground.

He took her torn hand carefully, and saw her barely glance at his hands. 

Taking bandage from his bag, he wrapped all of the bleeding fingers individually. When he was done, he kept her hand in his, holding it just to remind her of his presence.

Then, it was silence. Until a tired voice emerged.

"Is..."

Fenris looked the girl in the eyes as he waited patiently for her to continue.

"Am I to blame for not saving her?"

He gently rubbed Hawke's hand in circles with his thumb.

"I could say no, but would that help?"

The hand he was holding was drawn away from him, as his heart fell into his stomach he put his hands in his lap.

"You are looking for forgiveness, but I'm not the one that can give it to you."

Hawke looked at the ground, wanting to forget again, wanting to go back to numbness.

_just tell me its not my fault... please..._

But she would not plead to him. Even in her altered state of mind, she held grasp to her dignity.

She felt the numb again, seeping back into her bones. She was afraid. She brought her hands to her head as her body shook in fear.

Fenris could just barely hear her muttering to herself.

_wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up_

When he saw her hands clench around her black hair, her knuckles whitening from squeezing too hard, he knew it was time to put her safety first. 

Quickly, Fenris put his hands over hers to stop her from ripping her scalp. She squirmed under his grip, then began to scream. Fenris cringed knowing he was to blame for her distress, but he would not falter and let her be hurt. 

Hawke's entire body thrashed, trying to be free of the restraints on her hands, her wild kicking connecting with Fenris's unprotected body more times than not, she cared of nothing but escape.

She tired, eventually, and her thrashing turned into aching, low sobs, wracking through her entire body. Fenris released his grip on her hands, but seeing her panic even more at the lack of touch, he quickly moved to sit beside her, pressing his leg against hers as a constant reminder that she was not alone. 

Soon, Hawke was leaning into Fenris, craving contact, eventually she pushed her head into his chest.

"I'm going to hug you now, alright?" the elf said softly, not wanting his hold to panic her further

A pause, then he felt the girl on his chest nod. Arms quickly enveloped her, and they adjusted from their position so Hawke would be protected fully by the hold of her lover.

No more words were spoken, except for the occasional hush to comfort the crying girl. He rubbed her head, and soon they both drifted into an unsteady sleep.

Comforted by eachother for the moment, they would ease the others worries in the morning.

For now, they slept.

For now, she felt happy.


End file.
